Freddy vs Frieda
by Michelle-pce
Summary: Freddy Krueger is Springwood's most demonic slasher.. until a seductive female version of himself comes into the picture. Who's going to be Springwood's newest killer? Chapter 6 Updated
1. A New Rival

**Chapter 1 **

Author's Note I re-did this fic much better, as before I as quite ashamed of how it was before as it had a lot of mistakes because I had only joined this wonderful web site. So I'm hoping it's better this time..

**Story title: Freddy's Female Foe**

**Author: Well It Ain't Doctor Suess**

**Genre: Horror/Humor**

**Rated: R for violence, gore, sexual content, & language **

**An **eerie, piercing scream rang out through the large boiler room in the house numbered 1428, on Elm street. The screamrang out so loud, so shrilling, it would tingle anybody's insides. It would send shivers up and down your spine. It would make you want to break down and start bawling.

A 15 year old girl, to be turning 16 tomorrow morning, took one single wearystep. Her lips were trembling vigerously. Her eyes were darting from side to side. A few squeaks of pure fear escaped her half opened mouth. She let out a tiny whimper. What was she to do? Why was she in a strange boiler room?

The girl, Tammy Jones, pushed a strand of cherry red hair off of her face as the thought of that strange tall, broad-shouldered man standing there in front of her earlier, his right hand, which had a bladed glove on it, had been scraping along a hot, steamy boiler nearby, producing a chilling sound that caused Tammy to scream with fear and cover her ears. It nearly drove her mad, _insane. _Who was that man? His blades had glinted off of the low hanging lights on the ceiling above, practically blinding Tammy. She had tried to look away from the man and his blades but they both were so threatening and somehow kept her eyes glued...

The man was gone. For now at least. Was this a dream--a nightmare? Or was she really here for real? Tammy couldn't be sure. But if it was for real, how did she get here? She didn't recall walking here herself on her own two feet. Last thing she remembered waslying down and snuggling up in her warm, safe bed.None ofthis looked familiar. Did real live human beings really go around wearing bladed gloves on their hands?

"HA!"

Swivelling around to face who or what had just cackled, Tammy drew in her breath. No one was behind her. All that was there were sizzling boilers and the floorboards. She turned around again to proceed in trying to find the exit of this strange, horrible place. But that bladed-gloved-man was yet again, blocking her path. He stood there, a broad, demonic grin spread across his face. His skin was burnt-_pure _burnt. Every inch of his body was distorted and, well, _crispy, _like a plump, juicy Thanksgiving turkey. He had icy blue eyes that bore into Tammy's own hazel ones, he wore a striped red and green sweater, dark long pants, brown boots, and a dark fedora lay simply on top of his bald burnt head. Tammy shuddered, her face cadaverous. This man, this _place,_ was so ... frightful. She could just make out the faint morbid screams echoing off the boilers and hitting Tammy square in the chest.

The man seemed so anxious. What for? Tammy could not figure out why.

"You can call me Freddy Krueger," the man rasped. "The Dream Master!" He raised his right hand high in the air above Tammy's head before slashing them out and slicing her tender, colorless skin. But before he had the chance, four sharp, razor blades -- just like the one on Freddy's hand, emerged out of Tammy's stomach, splattering blood everywhere including on Freddy's face. An aghast expression cracked across his face.

Blood spilled out of Tammy's half open mouth, and oozed out of her fresh wound. Her whole body trembled with fear and pain.

Freddy swiped at his face, wiping off the young girl's fresh, dark red blood. _Good _blood. Freddy was disgusted. Not to mention apalled and confused-- who had done this? Who had murdered **_his _**victim that _he himself _was going to slauter? Who was this newcomer, this imposter, this _copycat _who wore a similar bladed glove like his own.

Tammy dropped to the hard cement floor dead. Freddy could just make a tall, slender, curved figure standing in the shadows. The one who had plunged the knives inthe young, oblivious teenager.He figured it was a woman, by the way she leaned on one large hip. She tossed a strand of long dark hair over her shoulder. She placed one high-heeled black boot out of the shadows and into the dim light. Freddy's forehead wrinkled as he watched the dark silhoutte. He eyed the boot uneasily.

"Hello, Fred dear." The woman's voice was low, quite raspy, but _peaceful _just the same.

"Who the hell--"

The woman stepped out of the shadows and put a finger to Freddy's wrinkled, chapped lips. "Shush." She _was _beautiful. She was almost identical to Freddy Krueger himself. Her skin was lacerated and burned like his, she wore a dark fedora on top of her head which swooped low so that it covered only one of her cold blue eyes, she was wearing a red and green sweater which tightly outlined her curves, and her pants (which was, indeed, much tighter) were dark and very much similar to Freddy's. Her right hand wore a glove with glinting, now smeared with fresh blood, razor blades.

"Don't speak," the clone woman hissed in Freddy's ear.

"Who the fuck are you, you clone freak!?" he demanded.

"_I_," the woman switched to leaning on her other hip, flipped her hair and said seductively, "am Elm street's and Springwood's, _newest_ Slasher."

"Newest slasher?!" Freddyspat, his brows furrowed.

_"Yes,_" she insisted simply. "And I intend to keep it that way. So, you might want to find another town to torture. But yet again, they'll probably all have forgotten you by then."

Freddy shook his head fiercely, flexing his blades. "You bitch," he muttered under his breath, but unfortunately, the woman's sharp hearing heared him.

"Actually, dear Fred, I _do _have a proper name you know," she said with keen percision. "It's Frieda Krueger."

"_Frieda Krueger?!_"

"Don't wear it out."

Freddy gawked at Frieda with utter dismay and shock. She was insisting that _she _was Springwood's newest Slasher? It was impossible, simply absurd. Freddy wouldn't listen to it. It was foolish, nonsense really.

"Well now." Frieda placed a single blade on Freddy's cheek and brought her face close to his. "I best be going now. Ta ta," she said in a sing-song voice.

Freddy watched in disgust, andpartially amazement, as Frieda Krueger vanished in thin air with a single flick of her blades. _Hmm, I never could do _that, Freddy thought enviously.

Who was this Frieda Krueger newcomer, and where ever did she come from? She looked almost exactly like Freddy, and now she was insisting that _she _was Springwood's _newest _Slasher, newest killer. That spot was already taken by Freddy himself. And of course nobody would forget him, he had made them remember him already (of course he had to get all the help from that dope masked murderer Jason Vorheese) to well for any bitchy, bratty kid to forget. And who would ever fear Frieda Krueger? She was a woman, a blasted, brain-dead _female. _All females were a waste of precious time, all they were was good looks, bodies, and all they did was snivel after their husband's wealth, in Freddy's opinion. The reason these kids remember Freddy is because they **fear** him, and no one would ever fear Frieda, a giddy little female.

Or so Freddy thought.


	2. The Dream Demons

**Chapter 2**

**T**he wind blew. The fire-red leaves on the trees rustled. Number 1428 Elm Street stood altitudinous on the familiar street. Freddy Krueger sat slumped in a wretched old arm chair with springs sticking out of it and holes where red-eyed rats had gnawed at. His hat covered his eyes, and a pool of drool was formed on his red and green sweater. His bladed glove and hand were folded neatly on his stomach. He appeared to be deep in a nonbelligerent slumber that, if disturbed, would cause him great antagonism.

Unexpectedly, deep red and orange flames roared up all around Freddy's lounging room. They licked at the peeling, crumbling walls. Freddy groggled in his sleep, unaware that the three dream demons had emerged from the scintillate flames of fire. They all wore concerned faces.

"Krueger."

Freddy, alarmed, straightened himself up and adjusted his fedora methodically on top of his cicatrice bald head. He groused agitatedly. "What now?" he murmured.

"Krueger." The first dream thrust himself just inches from Freddy's consternationed face. "I see you've met Frieda Krueger."

"Yes," grumbled Freddy.

Another dream demon beamed, a twinkle of adoration in his firey eyes. "Isn't she a doll? Oh, she's simply lovely!"

Freddy rolled his eyes. He was not at all thrilled by the fact of meeting _Frieda Krueger_. "Ya. Who the hell is that chick? She stole _my _soul that _was _supposed to be _mine._"

"Yes. That's what we came to speak to you about." The first demon pondered for a moment. "You see, Frieda is only a simple creation of ours."

"You mean she's a robot?" demanded Freddy.

"No, not exactly"

"Oh OK, so she's a manican?"

"No, she's not a manican, she-"

"A.. _doll_?"

"No-"

"Is she a-"

The dream demon exploded into firey colors of fury. "No! She's not a manican, a robot or a _doll. _She's like you, only slightly different. She's our creation of you. Our _female _creation of you."

Freddy cocked his head in thought, the perplexed expression planted on his face asked many questions.

The demon scoffed in annoyance and he continued to attempt to get his message through to Freddy. "You see, we wanted you to have a ... how to put this-sort of a challenge, I suppose you could say. The reason we did this was to make you more determined, kill more children. As lately you've been slacking off quite a bit."

"_What_?"

"Well you _have,_" the demon insisted defensively. "Remember Jason Vorheese? You let him kill all your children."

"I didn't _let _him" Freddy asseverated. "You fuckers know he just stole all my souls from right under my nose without giving me a chance to snatch them for myself."

The demon bristled with impatience. "Even so. Remember this Freddy, you _must _kill. Killing is your key to survival. If you do not kill, you will be sent to the _real _world to suffer, to die."

Freddy rolled his eyes. "Yeah, I know already! Fuck, you tell me all the time. Just get rid of that bitch OK? The last thing I need is some competition. Not that it will... you know what I'm saying!"

The third demon shook his head fiercely. "Oh, no. We're not getting rid of Frieda. Frieda is a perfect way to get you off your ass-excuse me, _bottom_. You're slacking off, Freddy! By having Frieda Krueger, a female replica of yourself, she will also be feeding on souls and living and killing kids in the dream world. You're just going to have to work extra hard Freddy, if you want to stay in the dream world."

Freddy couldn't suppress a menacing grumble from deep in his throat. "Whatever. All I can say is that I fucking loathe the bitch and I think she's a bad idea. Why a female anyways? A blasted, damn female!"

"Hey," the third demon looked at Freddy and the other dream demons in defense. "I think she's kind of cute.."

The other two demons and Freddy looked at the defensive demon in abhorrence. "You're sick," one of them said in revoltion.

"_Anyways,_" the first demon drawled, his voice edging with repugnance. "Freddy, Frieda isn't our problem anymore. We're putting her in your hands. Whatever happens, it's your business. We can not help you. Remember when you died, we told you that the only way for you too still remain killing and live in the dream world, was to collect souls. You either challenge her by collecting all your rightful souls, or let her feed on them all and you suffer in the _real _world. It is your choice to decide on."

Freddy chortled. "Let that sniveling female feed on all _my _children? Fuck no! That isn't possible."

The flames surrounding Freddy's layer began vanishing and flickering, along with the three dream demons. "Don't let it happen..." one of the demons' voices spoke, slowly fading. Soon enough, everything was gone and his layer returned to its original vacant self. Freddy was grumbling in annoyance. Why had the dream demons pointlessly created that deplorable female? What was her purpose? Did those agitating demons honestly think Freddy slacked off and hadn't been collecting many souls from the depths of his disquisitive children? They were terribly wrong. Freddy loved souls, he loved to just gobble them up, he loved the feel of his frigid blades against tepid flesh, he loved the sight of _good, decent _blood going to waste, and he loved the mere _feel _of the children's souls plunging into Freddy's dastard body. It was such a relief...

Freddy was going to surely prove those disgraceful demons wrong. And he was definitely going to tear that _bitch _apart limb from limb. He was going to tear through her cadaverous flesh and watch her suffer... She wasn't going to take his souls. Freddy fucking Krueger was going to make sure of that.


	3. A Deathly Encounter

**Chapter 3**

**I**t was another night. Another night had dawned upon Freddy Krueger, and upon all the little bairn children who were drifting into a deep, never-awaking slumber. Freddy was already licking his lips at the thought of tearing apart young flesh and seeing the mere, exquisite site of blood being shed from a child's lifeless corpse. A heavy feeling surged through Freddy's entire manical body, that told him that there was many children hopping aboard dream express about now. This alerted Freddy to begin, begin his flesh hunt for his strong desire for young, naive souls. Frieda Krueger would **not **beat him to it this time.

As Freddy was entering a child's dream, whih was a sandy, glimmering beach, he heard distant noises of chortles and sharp, eerie shrieks. Freddy made his way steadily to where abouts the noises were coming from. When he found what he was looking for, his blood boiled and rage surged through his blood and veins. His veins in his arms and legs were pulsing with ecstasy.

Frieda Krueger appeared before a young boy, about 14 maybe 15, then vanished through thin air. She then re-appeared, cackling impetuously. When she spotted Freddy, she froze and a spiral smile curled upon her lucious lips. "Why, Freddy, how kind of you to join us. I was just having a bit of fun with this young, _hansom _boy."

Freddy shuddered with rage. "Fuck you. How the hell did you get here before me? The damned kids only just fell asleep!"

"Oh, Fred," she breathed inwardly. "I'm very alert. The moment a child drifts off, I'm _there. _You should know that by now."

Freddy let out a grumble from deep in his throat. "Yeah, I should shouldn't I? You've been snatching every single damned kid that falls asleep right from under my nose, you nasty little-"

Frieda placed a finger to Freddy's cracked lips to shush him. "Ah, Fred, you shouldn't say anything to nasty that you would regret, should you?"

"Oh?"

"It might cause not-so-nice consequences."

"Ah, yes..." Freddy chortled, his menacing chuckle raspy and crackled.

Frieda tossed her silken hair behind her shoulder. "I mean for _you,_" she drawled.

Frieda spoke so gently, her voice was so appeased. She was so poised that when she spoke to Freddy it was as if he wished to be setated. The way she stood there tall and broad, her hip rested to on side, was almost... Freddy shook his head inimically, pushing the subnormal thought to the back of his mind, never letting it return. Frieda seemed almost.. sentimental, but although she spoke ever so maternally, she also had an detrimental way about her, that caused Freddy to feel so much pure hatred and abhorrence towards her.

The glistening ocean waves crashed onto the sandy shore. The blazing, lustrous sun beamed down on Freddy and Frieda, causing Freddy to have a heat stroke. The young 14 or 15 year old dreaming boy gaped wide-eyed at the two look-alike arguing slashers that had intruded his dream.

"Can I wake up now please?" the boy questioned Frieda politely.

Frieda turned sharply and stalked over to the boy, swaying her hips side to side. She stroked the side of the boy's face. "Hey, darling."

The boy gawked at her, his eyes a spark of love and desperation. He chuckled nervously, a smile cracking upon his face. There was no use for the boy, there was no helping him or him rescuing himself, he was caught under the love potion of Frieda Krueger.

She pressed her lips against his own moist pair. While she kissed him, he began to shrivel up like a prune. His skin turned wrinkly and his knees buckled up and he fell, the only thing holding him up was Frieda's tender lips. He was so desperate he didn't have a chance. After several moments of passionately sucking the life out of the boy, Frieda pulled her lips away from his vigorously and swiftly turned on her heel and stalked over to Freddy.

"Hmm. Your killing ways are very different, rather clever," Freddy admitted, his eyes narrowed.

"Oh? You think?"

"Yes.." Freddy abruptly swung his bladed glove out at Frieda's flesh. ".. But not clever enough!"

Frieda was to swift for even Freddy himself. Her arm shot out like a bullet shooting out of a pistol, and she gripped Freddy's clothed arm firmly, twisting it so that it caused Freddy to wither away in severe pain. He cursed aggresively, slashing Frieda's flesh, but it didn't stop her, as it was only a tiny, microscopic nick on the arm.

"Ugh, I don't understand," Freddy rasped, grinding his teeth and struggling free from Frieda's firm grip. "I'm in the dream world, I'm supposed to be invincible, eternal. I'm not supposed to feel PAIN!"

"Let me just tell you _this,_" Frieda drawled, resting on one voluptuous hip. "_If _you were paying any attention to the Dream Demons when they told you everything you needed to know about living in hell, in the dream world, then you would have heard them mention that other slashers apart of the dream world like yourself, can hurt you, and you will feel pain."

"That's fucked up." Freddy flashed the beldam female a cold stare of pure hatred. "Ah, then you can feel pain too-!" He swung at Frieda put she dodged the blow with a swift duck. His blades flew over her head, swiping the deathly air.

When Frieda straightened up, Freddy was standing there erectly, holding his ground, boreing into her pair of icy blue-grey eyes. His own eyes reflected her firey, challenging ones.

"I'm ready whenever you're ready," he hissed.

Flickering flames erupted, bickering was heard, and three Dream Demons appeared through the crackling red and orange flames that had formed on the sandy beach.

"This is rather tight," a dream demon admitted, viewing the beach that they had arrived at. "Some kid dreamed all this beauty?"

"Shut up!" the first, lead dream demon snapped. He turned his attention upon the two bitter slashers. "Ah, I see we _are _indeed having some competition here. You two seemed to really dislike each other. And here _we _thought that you two would be getting along rather well and maybe.. teaming up perhaps?" he chortled to himself.

The two burnt slashers exchanged a cold, icy glare then turned their deep scowl upon the demons.

"You're kidding!" Freddy roared. "Teamed with that whorey bitch?"

"What makes you think _I_ would be teamed up with a bastard?" Frieda arched a perfect eye brow.

Freddy tittered manically. "And who are you referring too?"

"_You._" Frieda tossed her glistening hair behind her shoulder. "Wow, men really _are _brain-dead."

Although Freddy knew the answer before it even reached Frieda's lips, his blood boiled with rage at the sight of her heart shaped lips forming the word, with her hair flowing down her clothed back and her voluptuous hip to one side. Freddy couldn't hold back, he had been wanting to do this the moment he caught sight of the gorgeous female clone of himself. Frieda was sharp and adept. She was already on Freddy within a heart beat. She had pinned him down to the sandy ground, stirring up floating spects of sand which drifted into Freddy's mouth, causing him to cough and splutter. Freddy was also dorsal; he shoved Frieda back, sneding her flying off him into the sand. Her hat fell off, revealing her matted dark hair that had been covered for so long. The two growling, vigorous-rather childish, might I add-Springwood Slashers tackled each other, slashing out blades at each other's raw skin and eye balls. It was becoming a fiendish blood bath.

"Go Frieda!" the third demon chanted, surveying the quarrell with pure interest.

"No way," the second demon argued bitterly. "Go _Freddy. _He's going to win the fight anyways."

The third demon scoffed in defense. "You obviously don't know-"

"_Enough_!" snapped the lead demon. "It doesn't really matter." He leered down on the bickering, snarling killers and spoke firmly, "You two enjoy yourselves now. Don't get _too _vicious with each other. We'll return later on in the future. Until then, maybe _try _to bond, create a new relationship? Well, I can indeed tell we're going to have a lot of competition on our hands."

And the dream demons vanished, flames and all, leaving the air and the beach vacant. Freddy and Frieda, still thinking of their leader's last words, immediately stopped what they were doing and froze, lost in thought.

"Bond and create a new relationship?" Frieda laughed richly. "They must certainly not be referring to you and I. That's merely impossible. I'm sure even _you,_ as brain-less as you are, know that."

"Hell yeah," Freddy raspily agreed, not taking his narrowed eyes off her once the entire time.

Competition was sparking. Blood would be shed. Wounds would be formed, flesh would be torn, deep, threatening scowls would be passed, and rage would be expressed. All this would occur in the depths of hell. All of this would indeed have an outcome, a solution-one winner. That winner will boast, take pride, and shimmer with lust. That winner will certainly gain numerous souls. That winner will _kill. _All this will occur...momentarily.


	4. The First Battle

**Chapter 4**

**This chapter contains coarse language and violence. Again, stay out of this section of if you can not handle the topic. Please read and review.**

**-Michelle**

**F**reddy Krueger had done it. He had done what he longed to do for several days now. He had beat _Her. _It had taken several attempts, but now there he stood in a sophisticated posture, a single blade poised underneath his chin in deep thought of how he was going to utterly torture his newest victim. The young 10-12 year old girl was pressed up against the wall, trembling and quivering rapidly. Her eyes were full of wonder and fright.

"Please, sir," she pleaded.

"Me sir?" Freddy cackled manically, sharpening his blades on some sort of peculiar object. "In your _dreams_!"

"Yeah, that's right," the girl squeaked. "In my dreams. I'm only dreaming, aren't I?"

Freddy nodded and replied bluntly, "Sure thing."

"So that means I'm going to wake up to the smell of my mommy's Sunday morning breakfast," the girl replied cheerfully, her voice still edged with uneasiness.

"Right. Well, _little girl_, you better make sure that your _mommy _isn't decapitated and her Sunday morning breakfast isn't all maggots!" Freddy roared with hysterical laughter.

The girl erupted into piercing shrieks of fear. "Mommy! I want to wake up now, sir, please."

"Oh sure. Just let me take care of a little _business_ and you'll be all set to go." Freddy edged towards the startled little girl, clicking his blades threateningly. As he walked towards the girl, her hollering and pleading for forgiveness for whatever she had done to deserve this, did not cause Freddy to feel even a tiny wince of pain for her, nor guilt, nor any bit of sorrow. He just kept on waltzing towards her, her eerie shrills just going through one ear and out the other.

Just as freddy reached the young hopeless girl, four deep scratch marks formed across her face, as if four invisible blades had slashed her out of nowhere. The girl let out a yelp, her wounds causing her a great deal of stinging pain.

Freddy cursed aloud, stomping his left foot on the cement floor. He knew who had wounded the dying girl. He breathed inwardly and held his breath as Frieda Krueger's slender figure formed from the dark shadows.

"Oh look, it's Bitchy the Bitch. Hi, how are the hell are you? Being a bitch again? What a _surprise_!" Freddy said in a fake polite tone, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

"Oh, I'm fine, but _you,_" Frieda chuckled richly. "You're a sweet bastard as usual. Oh you sick mother, you." She, abruptly, froze then jerked forward slightly, as a fresh soul thrusted into her.

"Damn you!" Freddy spat with no hysteric weakness or feverish excitement. "Leave my souls!" He lunged at her, his teeth bared as if he was going to switch into "cannibal mode." He pinned Frieda down, staring venomously into her icy blue eyes, which were quite similar to his own. Her eyes reflected his own, which were dazed with pure hatred.

"Oh, this is cute," Frieda easily shoved Freddy's heavy body off her own, and declared, "I think you'd better deal, Krueger. Because Frieda Krueger ain't going _anywhere_."

"Legend in her own mind," murmured Freddy in a sarcastic manner.

Frieda's lips curled into a penatrating snarl and she opened her mouth, as if she was going to start snapping and cursing, but instead her voice came out ashen. "So Fred, dear. I heard about your little _encounter _with that Jason Vorhees. That masked slasher, right? Right, well, that sounds like really _something._ Quite humorous, might I add."

Freddy froze, his microscopic heart leaped, skipping an enitre beat. "What?" he exclaimed with fury. "Who in the Hell told you that?"

"Oh, I don't know," Frieda smirked, placing a single blade on her chin in deep thought. "Only the Dream Demons. Oh, and they also told me about your final fight-you know, the one where you _lost._"

Freddy's blood boiled with rage. His temples throbbed and fury surged throughout his entire boody. "I did not LOSE!" he spat with such venom. "That Vorhees is a big lumix with no style and no skills, and he _certainly _did **not **win!"

Frieda simply didn't believe a word from Freddy, she just chortled richly and exclaimed joyously, "And Vorhees can't even talk! I can't believe this, this is priceless, it's rich! Freddy damned Krueger, supposed Springwood Slasher, lost to a brain-dead slicer such as Jason Vorhees. Well this is new."

Freddy snarled and spat, "Believe those menacing demons if you want. And yes, to inform you, I most certainly am the fucking Springwood Slasher and that statement hasn't changed a bit. That hockey puck, and everyone else, _thinks _that he won, but it's definately not the real truth. You think I would lose to that fat, lusty lard?"

"I don't have my doubts." Frieda still wore a mocking smirk on her face. "Clearly I'm quite pleased about it."

"About what, me kicking his sorry ass?"

"_No,_" she drawled. "About you losing. About Jason beating _your _sorry behind. It's ever so sad, and rather pathetic, I must say."

Freddy Krueger certainly did not want Frieda Krueger, his female foe, his nemesis, finding out about the encounter between the Slicer and Dicer, Jason Vorhees and Freddy Krueger. Especially considering everyone assumed that Jason won the battle, although of course he did not, and Frieda would obviously believe that Freddy lost and not his battler, as she loathed every inch of his raw skin. Freddy was surely going to give the Dream Demons **Hell** for spilling every detail to that brain-less, gulible female.

"Oh NOW what did we do that displeased you ungreatful dream killer?" A husky voice exclaimed with alarm abruptly.

Freddy and Frieda, both too busy bickering, hadn't took any notice of their surroundings. They hadn't realised steaming flames erupting and the three Dream Demons protruding from the spasmatic flames. The first Demon's lips were tight and he looked outraged.

"What is it?" he spat. "What now? Oh, Freddy, don't give me that look of of innocence, don't play dumb. I know what you were thinking. What did we do wrong today?"

Freddy stuck up his nose in sheer venom. "Like you don't fucking know. Telling that damned woman about Vorhees' and my battle, and then saying that _he _won? Which is a total outrage, and not true and you know it!"

The Demon chortled gently to himself, his expression telling Freddy that he clearly did not think this was a serious matter, and nothing to get all boiled up about. "Oh my, my. Freddy, you honestly think that that silly quarrel between you and Vorhees is going to be kept from every damned person who meets you? Krueger, you've wasted my time." He turned to Frieda, his features a marvel of warmth. "Frieda, excuse us and Freddy, here. He's quite the hot head."

Frieda's soft titter was high-pitched and she sounded like a giddy young girl. "Oh, I figured that out the day I first met him. Didn't I, Fred?"

Freddy gnarled, glowering at Frieda, his face reddening. "Oh yes. And I figured out _many_ negative things when I first met _you._"

The third Demon, the non too bright one, piped up, "Frieda, if Freddy gives you _any _more trouble, we'll be there. Won't we?" he inquired at the first demon.

The first demon stared at him flatly and replied bluntly, "No. We won't. Now let us go, for our deed here is most certainly finished!" And just with that, all three Dream Demons vanished along with the flames, the lead demon scolding the third demon and explaining about how the two dicers can finalize this quarrel themselves. And thus Freddy and Frieda, once again, were left by themselves... Alone, together.

Freddy turned sharply on Frieda, his eyes challenging, daring her to try to make a move, daring her to battle him right here, right now. But distinctly, Frieda did not share Freddy's feelings of controversey. Freddy wanted altercation, he longed to lunge at his prey and tear her limb from limb. Oh, how tantalizing it sounded to him, even deep in his own hidden thoughts. It would be so accommodating to him to take his four algid blades and tear them through her pretty flesh...

"That was an interesting visit, I must say." Freddy was snapped back to reality, snatched from his pleasurable thoughts. Frieda spoke steadily, as if her and Freddy were just two polite beings chatting attentively, both gracious to one another, discussing their previous event.

"Speak for yourself!" Freddy spat venomously, not wishing to share Frieda's composure and appeased tone.

"Have a spasm about it. I like to think I'm sane enough."

Freddy couldn't hold back any longer, he was like a savage, a starving animal in need of another one's raw flesh. He pounded onto Frieda's body, holding his blades out so that they pointed directly at her, and they both plummeted to the ground's hard surface. But before Frieda had to endure four knives in the flesh, she seized his arm and held it back. It was rigorous, as Freddy was struggling and trying to create a force against Frieda's firm grip on his arm; he could feel his arm throbbing with a piercing pain.

They engaged in a brutal battle of slashing, tearing, and shoving. It was a pattern, Freddy pinned Frieda down, she pinned him down, and it continued on from there. Freddy was slashing unceasingly at Frieda's chest, and she was yelping with pain, pounding his back with her clenched fists, which were turning white. Freddy flinched from the blows, but kept the wrangling female pinned down to the solid ground. She thrashed about, doing anything to free herself, oblivious to the fact that she wasn't going anywhere, due to the fact that Freddy was holding both arms down with both his blades and hand, and he was holding down both of her slender legs with both his steel-toed boots; this didn't prevent her from trying, at least.

"Aw." Freddy leered in on her, the foul stench of his breath bombarding her nostrils. "What's poor Frieda gonna do **_now_**? Pinned down and helpless."

Frieda's lips curled into a devillish smirk (although she was trying desperately to suppress a wince of disgust as Freddy's revolting breath seeped in her nostrils). "Yes, what is a woman like me to do in such a _rough _situation?" Before Freddy was able to pull away quick enough, Frieda spit right in his face. He cringed with sheer disgust, jerking sharply away and flicking saliva off his face with a single blade.

"_You sick fuck," _he drawled in an almost husky moan, his blood boiling with indignity. Frieda struggled free, stood up erectly in a slender posture of the thrusting out of her hip, and before the grumbling slasher, on his hands and knees, was able to stand up and continue this battle and perhaps try to end it-she set a long, pointed boot atop his back and shoved him to the dense ground. Of course, Freddy wasn't able to get up, as the tip of her boot was digging sharply into his skin, offering a stubborn resistance.

She chortled, bent low and hissed hushly in Freddy's ear, "Now who's the damsel in distress?"

Freddy Krueger had cracked. He was not able to gain control of his mind or his actions. He wasn't able to hold himself back, to gain posture, to tackle this conflict in a calm and collected maneuver. Instead, he had took her down to the ground with him, slashing at her flesh, trying insanely to bring her down, to kill her like he killed all the innocent dreaming children. It was Freddy who had indeed began the small, quick-ending battle...But it had been Frieda who had won in the end of the brutishness, she had been the true one to claim victory. But would this entire situation conclude that way in the final showdown between Evil vs. Evil... Again?


	5. Antagonism

**Chapter 5**

Author's note I totally haven't updated for months. I apologize… to anyone that cares.

**This chapter has coarse language. **

**F**or the first time in days, weeks… _months, _Freddy Krueger took a break from killing his dreamers. It wasn't as though he couldn't, he had gained all the fear he needed from the children everywhere, he could easily hop into someone's dream and slash them right now if he truly wanted to. So why didn't he, you ask? Several reasons which Freddy himself was ashamed of. He, of course, didn't want to be a quitter, not _him. _But it was even worse to have his female rival witness him being brushed aside as she took over the kill. What self-respecting male wants a female to beat him at his own game?

When the dream demons find out about my 'break,' they won't be able to contain all their rage, Freddy thought to himself while pacing 1428 Elm street one foggy night. He continuously stopped pacing abruptly to inspect every bit of the room he was in, making sure there wasn't a trace of flames. He was extremely paranoid. But they must know, he thought, didn't they know everything? They could read his thoughts, knew exactly how he felt and everything he schemed. Why hadn't they come yet? He pushed the thought back to his mind, it didn't bother him that they hadn't come yet, he couldn't be bothered with them. They would just start criticizing him, they always did at every chance they got. They would drink this new plan of Freddy's up and lick their lips afterward, they'd love it.

Frieda Krueger would love it too. She'd never let Freddy live it down. That was partly why Freddy was (slightly) anxious for the dream demons to come. He was going to try to make a bargain with them, a fair, straight-forward deal. He didn't know what that deal would be, on their part, but he'd think of something eventually. Freddy always managed to get himself out of difficult situations, even ones such as this, he had a clever, quick-thinking mind.

A telephone shrilled. Freddy jerked to a halt, gawking in disbelief at the cracked, un plugged phone lying on the floor. He hadn't been aware that there was a phone in here that he could use. Wearily, he stepped over to where the phone lay and picked it up, not needing to press the talk button; the leader demon of dreams thrusted his head out of the receiver and scowled with hatred at Freddy.

"Are you SICK? Are you insanely mad?" He thought about that for a second, realizing what he had asked Freddy Krueger, then continued his outburst of rage. "What the fuck is wrong with you, Krueger?"

Freddy acted in a collect manner. "Many things, being son of a hundred maniacs and all.."

"You're taking a break from stalking kids in their dreams?" the demon spat in Freddy's face. "What's with you? It really _was _a good idea to create a female double of you, I'm a little unsure though as to why she's more determined then you though, _she _wouldn't take a break…"

"Speaking of **_Frieda_**"-Freddy made sure to put lots of emphasis and resentment when saying her name-"I was hoping I'd get to speak with you. You see, I was thinking of concurring up a deal with you-and the other demons, although you probably won't allow them to have a say, damned bastards. Anyway, listen up, you destroy Frieda and I will-"

A bewildered expression flashed on the demon's face. "What! Destroy Frieda Krueger? My now _top _dream slasher? How could you propose such a preposterous bargain?"

"I'll do anything, you name it!" Freddy roared at the demon's squirming head. "Don't you see, or are you that bloody blind, deaf and dumb? That's the only reason why she's you're 'top slasher.' She's been snatching all of my victims! She's a damned mother fucking-"

"Silence, Krueger. I'm not listening to you complain to _me. _You are twisted, well you are either way-but to think I would destroy Frieda? The idea makes me laugh."

Freddy grumbled. "Fuck! I'm sick of that bitch, I want her out of my life-well, my death I should say-I want her out of every dream!"

"You can't always get what you want," the demon stated knowingly. "If you want her gone so bad, _you _get rid of her. I sure as Hell will not. I cherish her, respect he, as far as respecting a murderer goes. Go on, Krueger, prove to me that you're killer quality. I, personally, believe you might be. Fight her, Freddy, challenge her. And this time **win…**" he murmured under his breath, "not like that episode with Voorhees."

Freddy murmured many curse words under his breath at the mentioning of his 'conflict' with Jason Voorhees. He would cringe and curse whenever someone brought that up. It definitely was not something he wished to be reminded about. Continuously, even the dream demons who (_use to) _think of Freddy as their top killer, insisted that Voorhees had won in the end. Freddy could argue against that.

"Just listen," Freddy demanded in a harsh tone. "Save me the time from fighting her off. I could easily do that, I'm just not digging wasting my time on _her. _P-p…" He spluttered, tripping over his words. "Pl-"

"Huh?"

Freddy's mouth formed the word 'please' but nothing would come out. His voice box didn't seem to be working. Freddy Krueger had _never _spoken the word _please _before. He just _didn't _plead, he never needed to say that word, people were always saying it to _him. _

"Doesn't matter." Freddy tried to take the frustration from his eyes and replace it with a pleading look. "Ugh, come on!"

"No dice, Krueger. Anyway, I'm off. Think about things that are actually _worth _thinking about," the demon told him before vanishing from the receiver.

Freddy rolled his eyes and drew curled his lip up in what he thought was terrifying to anyone whenever he did it in front of a mirror. "Definitely won't be that freak Frieda."

Freddy clutched the phone, drew back his hand and chucked it fiercely at the wall before him; it made a loud cracking sound but he ignored it and turned his back to the damaged telephone. _I could have sworn I heard a cry from that phone, _Freddy shook his head in disbelief.

A piercing shriek drilled into Freddy's ears, causing his head to throb. He thrusted his head out of the broken window nearby and his brow furrowed when he spotted Frieda torturing her newest victim. The teenage boy, looking around the age of fourteen or fifteen, held up his hands to shield himself.

"You dirty little pervert, I'm a slasher, a _dream killer_, and you try to hit on me!" she bellowed. "I'll cut off both your hands for touching me, and your lips for trying to put them on me."

The boy stepped back wearily, trembling from head to toe. "I apologize, really I do. I thought I was having a wet dream… And a dream killer-what?"

"Males and their nocturnal emissions," she rolled her eyes. "And yes, I'm a dream killer, I kill kids in their dreams, it's fun stuff."

The boy grew terrified, but when he opened his mouth to speak Freddy interrupted him.

"Frieda you **bitch! **What the hell are you doing here, on the lawn of 1428 Elm street?" Freddy demanded heatedly.

She squinted up at him then grinned when she realized who it was. "I took my victim here! It's a perfect place, eh?"

"Yes, and that's exactly why I take _my _victims and slaughter them here! That's also why I don't allow anyone else to come here!" Freddy's face flamed and his black, evil blood boiled with rage.

"_What _victims?" Frieda cracked, clutching her sides as she was laughing hysterically.

Freddy's eyes narrowed and his breath came out short and heavy; he was completely unable to contain his indignation.

"Well, I got to get back to what I was doing. I surely don't want my victim running off." She turned her attention back to the pale teenager who was too frightened to make a move-and he was in a dream, and in dreams, it's impossible to run from your killer.

Freddy let out a loud roar of seethe, he was outraged and couldn't believe a word he was hearing from his female look-alike whom he loathed entirely.

**Author- I'm going to continue this part in the next chapter. Thank you to anyone considerate enough to click the review button. **


	6. Initiating a New Challenge

**Chapter 6 **

**F**reddy eyed Frieda taunting her victim. _Perhaps I can get some tips off her… **No, **how could I possibly consider doing that? _He shook his head to clear those absurd thoughts. What Freddy saw next was enough to lighten his spirits.

Frieda had her teenage victim cornered, but now she was stumped. She stood there, her finger on her chin in deep thought, her expression lost. "Wow," she said. "I am completely without new ideas of how to really torture my victim. I mean, I've used everything…" The entire time she paced and said her thoughts aloud, the dreaming boy just watched her, all the colour drained from his face, he looked puzzled; he started to silently chant something over and over to himself, probably telling himself to wake up, wake up, wake up.

Freddy leaned out the window in anxiety. Oh, he thought to himself, this was surely something he was never goingto forget. Frieda stopped pacing and leaned on one hip. "I can usually think of _something, _but it seems today my mind is blank." Then a new and improved idea struck her. "Hey, kid. You were hoping this was a 'wet dream' weren't you? Well…" A cynical smile spread across her face as she stepped towards him. Freddy scoffed; it was as if the kid was seeing some monstrous demon stalking towards him, because he became terrified out of his wits.

"Ever had someone _touch _your member?" she asked wittily. "I doubt it. You look like chicken shit. I bet no girl has been able to get in your pants."

He was speechless, his jaw drooped, it almost looked as if he was enjoying some sick pleasure. He patted his pelvic area protectively and tried to back away. Why is that they always continue backing up even though they're already against a wall, as if they think they can melt into the wall, Freddy pondered.

"How about we turn this into a very horrific wet dream?" She sauntered towards him, an malicious smile on her face. If she didn't have all the scars, Freddy thought, she would have a fair complexion. If you took away the burn scars, look at the face beyond that, she would be a flawless beauty. That didn't make Freddy think differently about her. The more beautiful, the more conniving, in his book.

Frieda approached the weary boy, dragging a single blade up his pant leg and stopping when it reached his groin. He just stared down at what was happening, even when she tore his pants and squirmed the bladed hand inside. The boy relaxed a little, his eyes flickering and going hazy, until he flinched and his eyes became wide with shock. Blood bubbled in his mouth, and all the colour drained from his face within a matter of seconds. Freddy usually loved the site of blood, but this particular time he wasn't too fond, he was enraged that it was the blood from a wound created by Frieda.

Frieda hooted, enjoying every ounce of pain the boy had to endure. Her expression was sinister, full of delight. Freddy, in a way, admired her desire to kill, to get the blood oozing, but he could never feel anything more for her than hatred and rage. He felt like a coward, his dreamers, his children being snatched from underneath his long hooked nose by a _woman- _a female creation. He had been in the killing business much longer than her, he had more experience… then why was he being immensely beaten at his own game? It was ridiculous.

Frieda laughed until the boy collapsed to his knees then fell flat on his face. A look of pleasure flashed briefly across her face, and then she turned to grin up at Freddy. He scowled back down at her, turned on his heel and stalked down the rickety steps, then out the front door. There was plenty of other more simple ways he could get out, but he chose the stairway; he wanted to make a point when he burst out the door on the front lawn and slammed the door shut fiercely behind him.

"Get off! What the-"

Frieda placed a finger to Freddy's lips to hush him. "I know, I know. You're going to start getting into hysterics. Well please don't, I already don't have the best head today. You only add to the throbbing."

Freddy was about to object and throw in his 2 cents, when a young teenage girl appeared wide eyed and frightened. She inspected the bickering pair of look-alikes closely, looking them up and down, eyeing after inch of their tarnished clothing and scarred flesh. Her eyes lightened. "Mom, dad," she breathed, opening her arms wide and racing to them.

Freddy looked down in alarm at his attire; he was wearing striped red and green work uniform, it looked almost like a lawyer's suit. He looked at Frieda who wore a red and green apron over a torn dress.

"This dress really flatters my figure," she performed a twirl, watching in awe as the dress flared out around her legs. "Wow, Fred, that's definitely a new look for you. Very professional." Freddy bellowed his rage and tore the suit off him with his knives.

The girl threw her arms around Freddy's legs tightly, soaking his pants with her tears. "I missed you, dad. I couldn't believe it when aunt Erma told me you two… got into a car accident. I still don't believe it!"

"Get off me you little brat," he shook her clinging body off his legs. "First of all, I'd never marry or have sex with _her, _second of all, I have my own daughter, whom I disinherited long ago, and third… You're dreaming about your dead parents?"

"I miss my parents so much… You must be my dad, he was a lawyer. But I thought you guys got into a car accident, not burned in a fire."

"Hey kid, you've obviously fallen into the wrong dream. But why not have a little fun with a game of pretend?"

"Pretend?" Freddy hissed at Frieda. "I'm not pretending to be some brat's father."

She ignored him and walked over to the girl where she bent over so she was level with her. "What was your favourite meal that your mom cooked for you?"

Freddy stalked over to Frieda irately, shoving her aside so he could loom over the intimidated young girl. "What's your worst fear?"

"Um… I don't really know. Probably spiders."

"Spiders? You're _looking _at your worst fear!"

Frieda rolled her eyes. "Is that your big trademark line for scaring little children? That is so lame and old. Don't you know now a days it's much more difficult to scare kids? It's sad, but they don't scare so easily like they used to."

"Don't patronize _me,_" he fired back at her. "I've been doing this longer than you have. We'll just see who causes the most pain in torturing."

"Fred, I accept your challenge."


End file.
